Hunter of Shadows Book 1: Betrayal
by Kadirika7211
Summary: Set between Episodes 6 & 7. Mandalorian Hunter Drey has been commissioned to investigate the disappearances of his brothers-in-arms on an icy backwater planet. When he finds himself pitted against sniper Nikki Damir and her squad, decisions must be made and sides must be chosen. Rated T for some violence.
1. Chapter 1

Snow blanketed the ruins of the city, as if trying to cover the scars with a featureless array of white. A clean slate or a new start of sorts. Anything to mask the devastation of a war that had raged for far too long. Unfortunately, it wasn't working.

Nikki Damir scowled at the landscape, noting the jagged edges of buildings that jutted up out of the snow, which had been turned an ugly gray-brown from the smoke and ash in the air that always seemed to hang over the planet like a shroud. She hefted her rifle on her shoulder absently, taking the familiar weight of the sniper rifle with relative ease as she slogged through the snow after the rest of her team.

They'd given up putting out the fires ages ago. She couldn't remember if it had been months or years. Didn't really matter, anyway. They'd never been able to keep up with them, not with rebels bombing the crap out of anything that still stood and setting fire to anything that might catch. Better to let the districts burn out. Standing structures could be repurposed. After all, if it was strong enough to take a bomb hit and survive, it could handle a huddle of soldiers sitting inside, planning their next move. Or so she hoped every time her squad hunkered down in its own makeshift shelter. They'd heard rumors of buildings collapsing, taking out entire squads and making life that much easier for the enemy. Still, the shelters were better than trying to brave the cold, and so they all ignored the stories as best they could.

Nikki ducked beneath the sagging frame of what had once been a massive building, long since destroyed by either airstrikes or fires, she couldn't tell. Either way it looked like a gentle gust of wind could be enough to bring it crashing down, as she grimaced as she stepped lightly through the rubble, glancing ahead at the rest of her squad. None of them seemed even slightly concerned. Her eyes scanned the group, lighting on their silhouettes with a comforting knowledge. She mostly only knew them by their codenames, given to them years before. It had been a long time since any of them had used their given names, and so it was second nature now.

Kretch ambled on in front of her, tall, gangly, and toting his assault rifle casually over his shoulder as he told his sixth joke to Viper. The redheaded woman's stoic expression was one of the many constants in their group dynamic, and it didn't change now. Nikki wasn't sure why Kretch kept trying, but try he did, every time they went out, and always with the same result. Viper had punched him once, having gotten particularly tired of him that day. And Nikki didn't blame her in the slightest. The two women on the team had crafted a quiet friendship from their second week on the squad, and while Nikki was far more amiable than the straight-faced woman, the two had gotten along well.

Further ahead, Shadow and Shriek walked in step together, ignoring the banter behind them. Shadow had joined the team fairly recently, and had earned his callsign during one of their many night missions. Nikki still impressed by how quickly and quietly he could move through the rubble that had once been a city, though he was bar far the most vulnerable of the team. He'd been outfitted in simple cloth armor to allow him to move fast and quiet, leaving the team to be sure he didn't get shot in the back in the meantime. And then there was Shriek. Formerly Shriekhawk, the team had affectionately shortened their leader's callsign to the least noble of the two possible nicknames. Team leader and father figure to all of them. They'd follow his orders into a blackhole. Had basically done so, more than once. Each of them owed him a personal dept after this whole world had fallen apart.

When the government had fallen, the planet had gone into utter chaos. The barracks had turned into a civil war, with soldiers shooting those who had been their closest friends only hours before. It had been a nightmare, and Shriek had pulled them all out of it. Given them a goal. Purpose. They all owed him a lot more than simple obedience.

And not a single one of them seemed worried about setting foot in a building that looked like it could fall if one of them happened to brush up against a wall.

Nikki grumbled under her breath, planting one hand on a crumbling wall and vaulting up and over it. The whole building didn't collapse on her in punishment, so she continued forward, weaving back and forth slightly to cover all angles for the team. It was Viper's job to make sure they weren't about to step on a buried mine, a task she performed by unceremoniously shooting the snow at her team's feet, sometimes without warning, but it was Nikki's job to make sure they weren't about to walk into an ambush. As team sniper she had the furthest vision, and so often pulled her rifle from her shoulder to make sure the team was clear to progress. Thus far, there hadn't been any signs to the contrary, and the team was moving unimpeded.

They'd run into two groups of looters so far, and one band of rogue soldiers. Both had been taken out with no damage to the squad and they'd left the bodies where they fell in the snow. Nikki had circled back each time under the guise of checking their flank for any who thought to retaliate.

She'd closed their eyes against the flat gray of the snow laden clouds, covering their faces when possible. Shriek would have given her a tongue lashing for it, but the city knew enough death. Looters or not, they deserved to face death with some dignity, rather than staring up wide-eyed at the sky, searching for some sort of hope that wasn't coming. It was what she hoped someone would do for her when she ate a bullet one day. Snipers only lasted so long out here, and death would hand her its calling card soon enough. She hoped she got to greet it with some measure of dignity on this backwater world she called home.

* * *

Blue light washed over the bridge of the ship, contrasting with the orange glow provided by the data scanners currently running on board. Both sources of light reflected off of a T-Visored helmet, set carefully aside on the display port. Dents and scratches adorned the painted surface of the helmet, including one large scorch mark on the left side, a testament to the less than luxurious life led by the man who now listened intently to a flickering holograph.

The flickering light cast deep shadows onto his face, hiding some features one moment only to reveal them in the next. Drey tilted his head, squinting slightly against the harsh light emitted from the projector. Fiddling with the controls had done little good to improve the connection, and so now he was taking apart the entire array as his contact continued to speak. The Twi'lek pointedly ignored the times Drey ducked out of sight with hydrospanner in hand, only to reappear moments later.

"You sure Mandos are on that list of the dead?" Drey asked finally, nodding to a datapad his contact cradled as if it was worth more than his very life. In some circles, it undoubtedly was.

"Positive," the man's voice was tinny through the poor connection, something that hadn't been present before. Drey frowned, moving to tighten a connection. "Three of your kind have gone missing, presumed dead. No way to confirm it, not without boots on the ground, but…"

Drey sighed, nodding to placate the irritated Twi'lek. He could already see the broker's headtails twitching in annoyance.

"But your intel is solid. It always is," Drey acknowledged. "What in _haran_ is happening on some backwater planet that means three Mandos are presumed dead?"

"A generations long war," Drey's contact answered. "Used to be nothing major. But lately, it's leveled whole cities. The planet itself is a mess. Thousands dead. More dying every day. The governor called for Mercs, but apparently rebels are shooting down any shuttles that get too close to the surface. In short, nobody has a clue what's going on down there, and that needs to change. Fast. Since it's your people getting killed and suicide missions are your thing, figured I'd give you a call."

Drey stopped fiddling, arching one brow pointedly. "You started by saying this was a routine job. Nothing special. When did that turn into 'suicide mission'?"

"I'm a pessimist. Anything that involves you landing on a hostile planet is probably a suicide mission. I'm just hedging my bets."

"'Cuz that makes me feel so much better," Drey retorted dryly. He sighed again and set the hydrospanner aside, grimacing and rubbing his aching knee as he considered. He didn't need the credits, not really. And it would probably be better to let his bad leg rest up a bit. He'd pulled it pretty badly back on Ord Mantell, and it was only just starting to recover again. His _buir_ would be less than pleased if Drey ended up in surgery a second time because he couldn't stay off the injury for longer than a week. But if Mandos were going missing…

"What're the coordinates?" Drey asked finally. A series of numbers flashed across his second screen and Drey punched them into one of the many panels spread out before him, adjustments to the now half-disassembled holo system forgotten for the time being.

" _Osik_ , what're you trying to do, ensure I freeze to death?" he accused, studying the planet's stats projected into the air before him. Sub-freezing temperatures seemed to be the norm, coupled with heavy snowfall.

"You have an environmentally sealed suit, Mando. A little snow won't kill you," his contact replied calmly, unruffled by the reaction.

"You do know I got shot, right? In the fierfekking knee?" Drey asked, craning his neck to look up at the projection of his contact. The Twi'lek just shrugged.

"Do you want the job, or don't you? You need a place to lay low, get the Black Dawn off your back for a bit. Nobody will be looking for you there."

"Yeah, because they're too _shabla_ smart to go crawling around a massive snowball looking for a _beroy'a_ with an _osik_ leg. Only a _di'kut_ would land on that ice ball willingly," Drey retorted.

"… So that's a yes, then?" his contact asked finally.

Drey sighed, running one hand through cropped blonde hair.

"Yes. Fine. But if I die on that ice ball, you get to be the one to tell my _vode_ ," Drey warned. His contact smiled noncommittally and ended the call.

" _Chakaar_ ," Drey muttered. "What do you think, Ka'ra?"

A quiet _thump thump_ was his only response, and Drey looked back to see the dog wagging her tail as if in agreement. A long, spotted tongue dangled from the massive black dog's mouth as she cocked her head to the side, studying her master with a loyalty Drey had yet to see rivaled. He chuckled, shaking his head as he ruffled her pointed ears.

" _Buir_ was right. You really aren't dignified enough to bear the name of a _Mando'ad_ legend."

Ka'ra barked once as if in agreement, watching him as he punched in the coordinates to the planet his contact had pointed him towards before following him out of the room. She padded into the main compartment of his ship after him, meandering off when it was clear she wasn't in for a second meal. Drey let her go, ducking his head to avoid the low doorway of the ship's armory.

A large assortment of weaponry was spread out in the multiple lockers, chests, and shelves scattered throughout the room, but Drey crossed to one locker in particular. The door opened with a hiss, and Drey pulled out a set of long knives, snapping two into the heavy gauntlets on his arms, and proceeding to stash the rest in pockets and against the thick plating of his _beskar_ armor. If he was going to a war torn snowball of a planet, he was going to have every weapon he could carry at his disposal.

* * *

The air was bitter cold, a harsh reminder of just how long it had been since she'd scrambled to her perch far above her team. Two hours of hiking through the skeleton of what had once been a thriving city, _her_ city, and they'd finally been given their orders to spread out and wait for the enemy. The rest of the squad got to hunker down out of the snow, keeping their positions while staying out of the elements. Nikki, on the other hand, had the unenviable role of laying on the ice cold duracrete with sniper rifle in hand, allowing the snow to drift down and cover her as she waited for the perfect shot paired with the order given.

Nikke flexed her fingers slowly, one at a time as she tried to regain some feeling in the near-frozen appendages. She was careful not to move too far for fear of bumping her rifle or otherwise shifting the sight picture she had so painstakingly set up.

The small camp below her moved sluggishly, its inhabitants few and more than grudging to head out into the snow and cold. Not that she blamed them. So far only two of the four targets had made their way into her sights, and Shriek had yet to give the order. So she waited, watching her breath cloud the air around her, knowing she was too far above to be given away by it.

She ignored the way the jagged edges of the duracrete dug into her elbows, her own fault for being unwilling to use a shooter's mat. One more thing to haul around and less stable than just the hard, solid ground.

Nikki's comm crackled to life in her ear and she stilled, holding her breath in anticipation of the order.

 _::Nice and warm up there, Scorpion?::_ the voice was jovial and Nikki answered with an irritated growl, recognizing her callsign and Kretch's voice.

Who had given him the fierfekking comm? Or had he hacked the thing again, leaving the squad leader out of the comm loop? It wouldn't be the first time, and it would explain why Shriek wasn't telling him to shut up.

"Can it, _Kretch_ ," she growled pointedly, knowing his callsign hadn't been of his choosing. It was a sore-spot she was more than willing to take advantage of at the moment. She wasn't in the mood for his jokes. In fact, she could completely understand why Viper had punched him out before. Shame she hadn't done it this time. "I've got a stun mode on this thing and I _will_ use it on you."

 _::And risk blowing the op? Doubtful.::_

"At least then I wouldn't be sitting up here getting snow down my back," she retorted, earning a snort in response.

Nikki rolled her eyes and settled back into position, trying to ignore her numb toes. Being squad sniper was a definite disadvantage when the rest of the team got to be running around, staying warm while she provided cover from above. One of these days Shriek was going to have to get her an insulated suit or she'd freeze to death. Not really the dignified end she'd been thinking of. Though at least her eyes would be closed…

 _::Squad, we've been given the green light,::_ Shriek's voice cracked over the comms, ignoring the banter as if it had never taken place. Kretch had definitely hacked it, then. Nikki's attention snapped back to the camp below. _::Scorpion, choose your target and take the shot. Squad will follow,::_

Nikki took a long, slow breath before letting it out, holding it at the very last second. Her sights steadied, settling square on the tallest of the targets. The cold was all but forgotten as she tightened her finger on the trigger. The frigid breeze pressed against her gloved hands, trying to find a way past the thick leather of the left hand that supported her rifle, nipping at her ungloved fingers on her right. Nikki blew a strand of gold hair out of her face distractedly, grateful for the breeze that caught the strand and angled it away from the eyepiece of her sight.

"Confirm order, Shriek," she spoke through her headset, eyeing the target. He was covered in cold weather gear, a thick cloak pulled up over the lower half of his face. Still she hesitated, waiting for the confirmation of a kill order. That action was something that couldn't be second-guessed or taken back. Once she pulled the trigger…

 _::Target confirmed, Scorpion. Take. The. Shot,::_ the words had more than a hint of irritation in them, bordering on anger. Nikki bit her tongue at the temper in Shriek's words. He'd been on edge for the past week, taking it out on the squad whenever one of them miss-stepped even in the slightest. It seemed it was her turn this time.

Nikki's finger tightened on the trigger and she drew in a slow breath, exhaling evenly as she waited for the subtle shake in her sights to level out. The crosshairs steadied and Nikki held her breath. This was the most crucial part, and she had to fight the tension that always threatened to take over her muscles in anticipation of taking the shot. Her target was still, a rare event, but not one she was going to complain about. She could steam curling out of the cup of caf he held in his hands, coiling around him like some sort of flimsy shield. It was the perfect shot. Still, her finger wavered over the trigger.

 _::Confirm, Scorpion.::_

There was a moment of silence as Nikki watched through her sights, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

 _::We have our orders, Scorpion,::_ Kretch's voice this time, a warning in his tone, all humor gone. He'd known her the longest, since the beginning. He knew her moods, knew when she was hesitating. Losing faith, even for an instant.

Nikki hesitated a moment longer, feeling the tension heighten. One slow movement of her finger caused her two-stage trigger to hit the trigger wall, a small pressure point built into the trigger mechanism meant to warn her that any more pressure would cause the weapon to fire.

"Confirmed, Shriek," Nikki answered finally, the moment of indecision passing.

She pulled the trigger.

* * *

 _A/N: Just a quick shout-out/thank you to those who have patiently waited for Hunter of Shadows to finally get off the ground. I'm incredibly excited to introduce Nikki and Drey (and Ka'ra, of course), as well as some later characters down the line. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 2

Nikki sat quietly, listening to the banter of the squad as they all blew off steam after the mission. It had gone without incident, other than Kretch nearly blowing his own foot off when he got into a scuffle with one of the targets. Shriek had given him a tongue lashing the whole way back while the rest of the squad listened in silence, keeping guard on their flanks to make sure there was no retaliation.

But their return had been clean, and now the crew hunkered down in their makeshift shelter. Nikki glanced up as dirt hissed through the cracks in the metal plating that had been haphazardly screwed into place in hopes of reinforcing the structure. They were lucky. Their shelter was partly underground, meaning any nearby bombings simply caused the building to shake and dirt to shift down through the ceiling. The other squad members ignored it with relative ease, but Nikki was not so trusting.

"Not possible. Scorpion took out one-"

"Two," Nikki corrected Kretch, beginning to clean the sniper rifle that had served her so well for the past few years. Command couldn't afford new weapons or armor very often, so Nikki had gotten attached to the weapon. It had long since lost its sheen, but it was a solid piece and had saved her hide more than once.

"You had the advantage of height and surprise, meaning you forfeit one," Kretch replied, waving a hand dismissively in the dim light. Nikki glanced up, lifting one eyebrow pointedly.

"Fine. One and a half," Kretch conceded. "Other half goes to Shriek for planning the op."

Nikki heard an irritated grunt from the squad leader, eliciting the ghost of a smile from Viper. Nikki felt a smile tugging at her own lips and waved a hand for Kretch to continue.

"So that leaves two. And since we _know_ that I got one of them-"

Nikki barely held back a bark of laughter. Viper, however, was less successful.

Kretch stared at her, a mixture of accusation and surprise in his expression. "Thirteen jokes, and _that's_ what makes you laugh?"

Viper shrugged on shoulder in reply, and Kretch sighed. "Women. _Anyway_ , as I was saying, that just leaves one. And I saw Viper make a kill, so it's not possible for you to have gotten one as well, Shadow. Math's just not there."

Uncomfortable silence fell and Nikki glanced up, gaze darting around the room to take in the faces of the squad. The tension was worse tonight. It was always there, lurking beneath the surface, only disappearing when Kretch started running his mouth. Sometimes Nikki was sure he did it on purpose, setting the crew at ease and making himself a target of ridicule intentionally to allow the team a safe way to blow off steam. Other times she was sure he was just an idiot who didn't know when to shut up.

But this was different. Her hands slowed as she continued taking apart her rifle, but now she was studying the expressions of her teammates. Viper's eyes darted about the room, taking stock as well. Nikki met the other woman's gaze for a moment, concern reflected in both their eyes before they went back to studying the rest of the squad. Kretch's smile was a bit too wide. Forced and brittle, as if he, too, sensed the difference in the tension of the room.

Shadow's eyes were narrowed, fixed on Kretch, but his gaze lacked the focus of true disagreement. Still, his fists clenched and unclenched at his side, subtly, but visible to Nikki in her perch a few feet above the rest of the squad.

Viper's gaze lingered on the newest recruit of the squad, but Nikki's attention danced to Shriek. Normally impossible to read, the squad leader looked on the verge of exploding. Nikki felt herself still, sensing danger as she took in the tightness around his eyes, the clenched jaw and the snapping fire in his expression. This was definitely not normal. The team was ragtag, far from a polished group of soldiers, but they worked well together, overall. Sometimes they butted heads, more than once a fight had been settled with fists. Once Viper had pulled a pistol on Shadow, but that altercation had been ended quickly. And through all of that, she had never seen Shriek look like this. It wasn't fury, not really. That she'd seen, knew how to deal with. This was something much harder, much colder. It screamed danger, and Nikki felt her breath catch in her throat.

Seeming to notice her sudden stillness, Viper glanced to her, then followed Nikki's eyeline to Shriek. Viper stilled just as quickly, apparently sensing the same danger.

A moment later the expression was gone, smoothing out into a bemused look that Nikki had seen a thousand times. It was almost more jarring, seeing such a familiar emotion following such a foreign one. Nikki's gaze snapped to Viper's, wondering if she had imagined it all. But the redhead's gaze was already fixed on Nikki's, a silent confirmation of what they'd seen. Nikki swallowed hard, breaking Viper's gaze and taking a slightly shaky breath. Whatever that had been, both Kretch and Shadow had missed it.

"'Cept he killed the one you tripped over," Nikki said finally, shattering the moment of tense silence.

Kretch's gaze snapped to hers, searching for a moment, but Nikki looked back down to her rifle, continuing to disassemble it as if nothing had occurred.

"He did no-"

"He did," Viper cut in. "Saved your life too, come to think of it. You were too busy trying to figure out which end of the gun was the dangerous one."

Kretch shook his head in denial, earning a low laugh from Nikki. It took all of her self-control not to glance over at Shriek again. But something warned her that such an action would be a mistake, and she heeded that instinct.

"Kretch. I had the best line of sight of the whole team. Viper's right, Shadow threw one of his vibroblades. Hit the guy straight on, saved your sorry skin in the process," she said, grabbing a soft rag and beginning to wipe down all the pieces of the rifle carefully. Kretch still looked doubtful, and Nikki arched one brow at him. "Honest."

"Well… Sithspit. That means I'm the one without a kill," Kretch said slowly, looking less than pleased with the idea.

Nikki laughed, casting a glance in Shriek's direction as she did so. There was no sign of the earlier expression, nothing to show the tension had been anything more than the norm.

"Don't sweat it, Kretch. You can have the other half of my second kill," Nikki offered with a wink. She caught Shadow's grin, followed quickly by a laugh from Viper.

* * *

Drey stood at the top of the lowering ramp, hand balanced against the frame with Ka'ar by his side as they waited for the ramp to hit the landing pad. Ka'ar sat patiently, her ears pricked and head cocked at the Mercs who passed by her view. Still, curiosity or no, she waited for her master's command.

She received it a moment later when Drey signaled with his right hand, sauntering casually down the ramp with Ka'ar plodding faithfully behind.

The moon was a disaster. Ships were parked wherever there was space, with little to no organization. Drey's Head's Up Display fed him information inside his helmet as he wove through the logistical disaster that seemed to be the Governor's response to a crisis. No wonder people had no idea what was going on down on the surface of the planet. They probably didn't even know what was going on right next to them.

A small green indicator flashed in his HUD, informing him that his ship was closed and sealed. Drey blinked twice and the notification disappeared.

Ka'ar pressed closer to Drey's side as they wove through the crowds in search of someone who looked like they might know what they were doing, the crowd making the big dog nervous. Drey reached back and scratched her ears reassuringly, still scanning the crowd for any sign of an authority. And not the kind that was selling spice two tents back.

Drey spotted a group of mercs headed his direction, bristling with armaments that half of them looked like they weren't sure which end to hold and which to aim. Drey sidestepped casually, noting that the group did the same of him and Ka'ar.

"Drey!" The voice rang out across the crowds, carrying the distinct tonality of a vocoder.

Drey stopped, pivoting to scan the crowds for the source of the call. A familiar T-Visored helmet met his view and he offered a causal wave, changing directions to make his way through the ramshackle crowd to his familiar _vod_. Ka'ra darted off to greet the other Mando and Drey let her go, not bothering to recall the excited dog. The Gray and gold armored Mandalorian who had called knelt down and spread her arms open for the dog, who threw herself forward, bowling over her welcomer in the process.

Drey chuckled, approaching at a slower rate and offering a gloved hand to the downed Mando. Ka'ra stepped aside, tail wagging happily.

"Need some help there, _vod_?" Drey asked, amusement rife in his tone.

Ari Draeg clasped his hand, allowing him to haul her slight form to her feet.

"I swear, that dog gets bigger every time I see her," Ari declared, ruffling the black dog's ears affectionately.

Ka'ra leaned in to the woman's touch, plastering herself against the gray and gold armored Mando's side and looking up at Drey with tongue lolling happily.

"Traitor," he accused good-naturedly, earning a tail wag in response.

"I take it you're here for the same reason I am?" Ari asked, continuing to scratch the unrepentant Ka'ra's ears.

"You're ducking Black Dawn, too?" Drey ventured, swinging his rifle back over his shoulder and crossing his arms casually.

Ari snorted, shaking her head. "The downed _Mando'ade_."

Drey nodded in response. Ari had always been one to get straight to the point.

"I hear three are down and nobody has a _shabla_ clue why."

But Ari was already shaking her head, fluorescent lighting glinting off of the menacing T-visor of her helmet. She sighed and removed the piece, revealing serious blue eyes and sleek black hair. Her face was young, maybe eighteen or nineteen, Drey was never able to get her real age out of her. But she was good at what she did, and Ka'ra liked her. It was enough of a character recommendation for Drey.

"Four. Tasha Bralor went down two days ago. No word from her. We read an explosion from the planet's surface at her entrypoint. The leaders here are calling the whole squad dead."

" _Osik_ ," Drey hissed, causing Ka'ra's ears to prick at the tone. The dog left Ari's side, pressing herself against Drey reassuringly. "Tasha wasn't some green kid. What in _haran_ is going on down there?"

Ari hooked one thumb over her shoulder, gesturing to a hurriedly constructed building visible through the crowds.

"Sounds like you haven't been briefed. I'll take you to the General, he's coordinating this mess."

Drey nodded, checking his pistol as his hip with a brush of his hand before striding off after Ari, mind buzzing with questions.

* * *

Ari stood back, watching Drey closely as he spoke to the General. She'd known Drey for going on five years now, ever since she'd reached adulthood within the Mando'ade and taken on her first hunt. Drey had found her on Nar Shaddaa, pulled her out of an _osik_ load of trouble with that massive hound at his side. He'd even helped her finish the hunt, teaching her some tricks of the trade along the way. Tricks that had saved her hide more than once.

And yet he was the shyest person he'd ever met. It worked to his advantage, granted. His silence was often taken for coldness, and his few words were listened to. The helmet helped, giving him an intimidating edge, and he rarely removed it. For that very reason, she suspected. He was relaxed and at ease with those he knew, more so if they were _vode_. But he'd been shy and cautious as long as she'd known him, and that was showing now.

Ari doubted the General could tell as he briefed the Mando standing before him, still and silent. But the way Ka'ra stood with her head under Drey's gloved hand, and the occasional scratch Drey gave the dog's ears was a dead giveaway. He didn't like strangers. Didn't like people who he had no way to tell if they would betray him or not. Once he knew you, Drey was as loyal as the mutt who followed him like a shadow. He'd be at your side in a fight, no questions asked. _Shab_ , he'd start the fight if he felt it was necessary and join you for a drink afterwards, making wisecracks like nothing had happened. Some of the _vode_ who had known him longer said he hadn't always been so quiet. So untrusting. Something had happened to make him that way, but she'd never asked and he'd never explained.

"What's the situation planet-side?" Drey asked, cool and reserved.

"We don't know what's bringing down the landing parties, if that's what you're asking-"

But Drey was already shaking his helmeted head sharply. "I'm asking what the situation is. Factions. Resources. What's it _like_ down there?"

The entire room fell silent and Ari felt herself go still. Saw the same thing reflected in Drey's body language.

"It's a hellhole. What's left of the cities have been bombed out or burned out from fires. There's no industry, except a black market that's supporting all sides of the conflict-"

"What sides?" Drey interrupted, tone sharp. "Official forces pulled out four years ago. Two years after your government fell and all _haran_ broke loose. What _sides_ are still down on the surface?"

So he'd done his homework. It was more than Ari knew, and she was glad her helmet hid the embarrassed look she no doubt sported. Drey was a researcher, had told her to be one as well. Multiple times. But she'd never been good at slowing down and taking stock of a situation. It was what had almost gotten her killed on Nar Shaddaa. Five years later and she still hadn't learned much it seemed.

"That's the whole problem," the General admitted finally. "We don't bloody know. In four years, more factions have popped up than ever before. Add to that looters, gangs, and the Sixth-"

Drey held up a gloved hand, and Ari lifted an eyebrow at the action. It arched higher when the General stopped, apparently taking the order.

"The Sixth. Who are they?" Drey asked.

The General let out a slow breath, suddenly looking much older than his sixty-some years.

"They're what started this whole thing. What kept it going. War's been raging for generations, but it was always soldiers against rebels. We knew what we were doing. Then it changed. Someone else took charge. We still don't know who, but we suspect former military. Never got the chance to prove it, though. All we know is that the Sixth suddenly got more organized. More like a military. Anyone we captured…" the man shook his head. "It was like looking into a mirror. They thought we were them. Saw themselves as soldiers. Had a hierarchy, talked about a government. Nothing we said could convince them otherwise. To them, we were the rebellion and they were the military. They called themselves part of the Sixth Division. That was the most we ever got out of them."

"So what you're saying is there's a militant organization on the surface whose soldiers believe that they are fighting for a government, and you didn't think to tell my _vode_ about it?" Drey's voice was dangerously soft, and Ari held her breath. Whether he knew it or not, the General had just made an enemy. Drey would take the job, Ari had no doubt of that. Too many _Mando'ade_ had gone missing for a vendetta to be served.

"The objective has changed," the General said sharply, as if realizing he'd lost control of the situation. "We need a landing zone. You get us that and secure our troops to land, and you'll get your payment."

Drey's fist was clenched at his side. No doubt itching to reach for a weapon as hers was. Four Mandos, missing and probably dead because some _di'kut_ of a general-

Drey turned on his heel, marching out of the room with no acknowledgement of the General. Ka'ar followed sharply, and Ari hesitated only a moment before following suit.

Drey was about to start a fight, and she definitely wasn't going to miss it.

* * *

The shelter was shaking again. Nikki scowled up at the ceiling, noting the dirt as it sifted through the cracks not far above her head. She considered hitting the ceiling with the butt of her rifle, as Kretch had demonstrated in the past, but she couldn't quite work up the courage to do so. Facing death everyday was one thing, but starting a cave in on top of herself and her entire squad was not really something she wanted to risk.

She glanced to the rest of her team, but all had long since turned in. Viper was sound asleep on the bunk below hers, Shadow had curled up in the corner of the makeshift cot he'd scavenged from one of the old hospitals, and Shriek was out cold across the room. Kretch was sprawled across the floor in the far corner, elbow thrown over his face to block what little light came from the various pieces of tech scattered around the room.

The shelter shook again and Nikki ducked instinctively, allowing the dirt to shower the back of her head rather than falling straight into her eyes. Once the shuddering stopped she looked up, scowling and shaking the fine dust from her blonde hair. She glared up at the low ceiling accusingly before swinging her legs off of the side of the top of the rickety bunk she shared with Viper.

She landed lightly, swinging her rifle over her shoulder and weaving her way through the recycled contents of the underground building that had become the squad's makeshift home. Their table was a discarded fuel drum, hauled back by Kretch and Viper. A busted blaster rifle stock served as a leg for one of the two scavenged chairs, and Nikki had contributed a heavy metal slab that blocked cold air from outside, a makeshift door marred by blasterfire and force only knew what else. It slid open quietly, a testament to more of Kretch's abilities than just hacking and slicing. He was probably the most talented of the entire crew, the one of them that had even a chance of surviving without the others. Well… Him and Shriek.

Nikki made her way up, swinging around piles of debris and jagged metal, a reminder of the war that had torn through the whole planet. The building itself was a sagging mess, the only intact part was the basement, which the squad had claimed as their own after shoring up the walls and ceilings as much as possible. The rest of the building was more of a death trap than anything, but Nikki climbed her way up with practiced ease, avoid the sagging places or weaknesses in what remained of a once tall structure. Her blaster rifle hung suspended over her shoulder, carted with her despite the late hour. It had become her saving grace, and she'd never leave it behind by choice. The others were less attached to their weapons, but their joining of the squad had been less… dramatic than her own. Any measure of safety she could get a hold of, she'd take. And on a world like this, there was nothing safer than a rifle in your own two hands.

Nikki swung herself over the last obstacle, a large gap in the duracrete structure that was probably the most dangerous. One breathless second of swinging over empty space Force only knew how high in the air, and then she was on the ledge.

It wasn't much to look at, hardly impressive, but Nikki hunkered down, back against one of the three remaining walls, gazing out across the jutting ledge to take in the landscape before her. Kretch called this place the cave, and Nikki had to admit it looked like one. There was enough room to stand in some areas, and some she could barely sit upright in. Still, it was enclosed, high above the rest of the surrounding area, and felt safer than anywhere else.

It was a stupid thought. She knew it. She wasn't the only sniper on this planet, and up here she'd make a perfect target to someone else in the same line of work as her. But somehow that risk felt better than waiting for a cave-in to smother her.

Nikki lifted the rifle to her shoulder, huddled back against the far wall as she watched the starry skies through the long range scope. It was amazing what you could see when the lights of the city weren't there to interfere with the view. She remembered before, when she'd look up and see only a few pinpricks of light, stars hidden amidst the backwash of lights from the cityscape. Now she could see a wash of stars, sharp and shining against the inky black sky. Some fires still burned in the distance, casting a glow against the horizon, but it wasn't enough to truly dim the stars. Sometimes she came up here just to think, to try to imagine what planets she could see through her scope, what worlds so far from her own were doing.

The scuff of a boot against the duracrete was Kretch's introduction, followed by a quiet _whuff_ of air as he landed on the edge of the ledge.

"You really should pay more attention, Scorpion," he berated, his voice cast low.

"I've known you were there since you left the bunker," Nikki answered, still gazing through the scope. She swept it across the ruins of the city before returning it to look above.

"Right, sure," Kretch answered, settling down next to her and lounging comfortably in the shadows.

"You tripped over the threshold," Nikki said dryly. "And slipped on your way up. Three times."

She held up three fingers, glancing over at him pointedly before turning her attention back to her scope.

Kretch sniffed. "Actually it was four, thank you very much."

Nikki let a soft laugh escape before lifting her rifle from her shoulder, setting it aside to lean back. She wedged her shoulder into one corner of the ledge, spreading her legs out in front of her as she gazed out over the broken city.

The two sat in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Kretch had been on the streets after the upheaval, just like her. Of the squad, the two of them were the only ones with that in common. It had been a breath of freedom, but a terrifying one. The whole planet had been in chaos, with people struggling just to survive. More than once Nikki had thought she'd get a vibroblade in the back just for existing. And now the planet was this. A bombed out ruin, stretching as far as the eye could see.

"What're we doing here, Kretch?" Nikki asked finally, her voice whispering over the ruins before fading. "What're we even fighting for?"

"You mean other than lining up to die like complete morons?" Kretch asked. There was no malice in his tone, no humor. Only the sharp, practical man Nikki had learned lurked beneath the humor and devil-may-care attitude. "Following orders. Keeping our heads down. Trying to find something to believe in on this bloody rock."

Kretch hurled a chunk of duracrete off the ledge and the two listened to it clatter its way to the bottom.

"They did it on purpose, didn't they?" Nikki asked. Kretch grunted, already familiar with this conversation. It was one they'd dodged around in the past, never quite touching on it.

"Making teams that can't survive without one another? You bet they did," now there was bitterness in his voice. "You're a great sniper, but put you on the ground and you're dead in two minutes. Give me a long range target and I'm giving Death a handshake and asking if it was at least a good show. Not a single one of us on this team knows what the fierfek we're doing without the others. They made us utterly reliant on each other. On _them_. We're the Sixth. Last ones standing, and that's one heck of a cause to believe in. That's what we traded for. We just didn't expect it to be so dramatic."

Nikki was quiet a moment, frowning and brushing her fingers against the stock of her rifle.

"Was it worth it?" she asked finally.

Kretch fell silent with the weight of the question. Neither one knew how to answer it and so they didn't bother to try. They simply stared out at the ruins of what had once been their city and listened to the silence echo back at them.

* * *

"What about a night run?" Drey asked, brushing past one of the many small groups of mercs milling about. Some were drinking, others arguing, and still more were playing any sort of game that might involve cards and credits. Usually those groups ended up arguing, too.

Ari scrambled to keep up behind him, but Drey didn't slow. Making accommodations for Ari Draeg usually left you with a busted nose and a black eye, and that was the last thing he was gunning for today. Let some other _di'kut_ make that mistake. She only came up to his shoulder, but Drey had learned the hard way that Ari could pack a mean punch.

Ka'ra wove between the two of them, on guard as always in tight crowds. She didn't like this assortment of characters any more than Drey did.

"Already tried it," Ari replied. "They're not short on tech. The shuttle went down a mile from the LZ. You're going to have to be more creative than that."

"Since when am I the _shabla_ strategist?" Drey muttered, ducking around of the makeshift tents that had popped up in lieu of any kind of shelter on the moon.

"Since you got mad and told off a General and decided to do it yourself," Ari answered simply, scrambling to keep up. "You've got too much-"

"Don't say it," Drey interrupted, a faint warning in his tone.

Ari held up both hands, aware he could see her in his HUD's 360 view inside his helmet.

"Fine, fine. But you know it's true."

Drey grumbled something in response, finally reaching the base of his ship and, more importantly, the clearing that had been kept about the ship.

Ari skidded to a halt, neck craned to look up. She whistled, the sound echoing through her vocoder.

"You've upgraded," Ari said admiringly. She reached out a hand before stopping, looking to Drey pointedly.

He chuckled, accessing the ship's controls and disabling the securing system inside his HUD.

"She's safe," he acknowledged, and Ari ran one hand over the ship's surface. "Meet the _Ultimatum_ ," he announced. Even he heard the pride edging his tone.

"She's gorgeous… In an 'I'll rip your arms off' sort of way," Ari said, stepping back to look over the ship.

The _Ultimatum_ was a cross between a Starship and a freighter, with sharp, sleek lines and a faceted exterior that was both sleek and intimidating. Her gun power was also probably a contributing factor to the intimidation level, as were the powerful engines tucked back at the rear of the ship. She was painted a matte black, with a series of deep gray panels and blue edging, with a few orange stripes blazed along the wings and body of the ship.

"We taking this lovely lady down to the surface?" Ari asked, sounding hopeful.

But Drey was already shaking his head. "She doesn't have the specs to go stealth that low. _Ultimatum_ is a hunter, not a smuggler. We could get in, but once we were close enough to get hit, we'd be out of the game. Especially with the tech you're saying they have."

"You just don't want to scratch her," Ari accused lightly, earning a chuckle from Drey.

"That could be a contributing factor. Now quit coveting my ship and help me come up with a plan," Drey suggested, tossing a holoprojector onto the ground. Immediately a view of the world below sprang up, slowly zooming in to the target city and showing a scaled down version of the rubble.

"How'd you get this?" Ari asked, stepping away from the ship and gesturing to the map.

"Don't ask if you don't want to know," Drey responded absently, beginning to walk through the projection. "Where have they tried entering from?"

"Here, here, and here," Ari provided, outlining three paths. A dotted red line followed her fingertips, tracing to the LZ. "They're the safest routes, and the only ones that have been scouted."

"And where were they shot down?" Drey inquired. Ari pointed out the spots, resulting in twelve orange dots on the map. Drey hissed through his teeth. "And the _shabuire_ just kept sending them," he murmured. "What about here?" he asked, pointing out another section on the map. "And here?"

"Both deemed too dangerous to try when there are three routes open," Ari said, and Drey glanced up. He knew he wouldn't be able to read her expression with her helmet in place, but he could read her body language, and she was clearly angry.

"Because twelve downed shuttles just screams safety," Drey said dryly, the words echoing through his vocoder as he turned back to the map.

He walked around a second time, brows pulled together as he studied the city's layout.

"Bring two teams in simultaneously," he said finally, pointing out the two routes he'd asked about before. "One from each direction, full speed."

"You won't be able to make the LZ," Ari said.

"Yes you will," the daredevil grin he wore carried through in his tone. "Start decelerating here," he pointed to the rubble of a tower, spiking up into the air like a lone watchman, "and you'll just make it."

Ari was silent, no doubt running the math in her HUD. She hesitated a moment, then gave a slow, almost reluctant, nod.

"No room for error," she said slowly.

"When is there ever?" Drey asked, scooping up the device. "Get a team together, Ari. We'll run this our way."


	3. Chapter 3

The whole planet was a mess. Nikki knew it, had for some time in fact. But nothing really drove it home like walking through the bones of dead cities. She could remember a time when the skyscrapers soared up above her head, high and imposing and shining as they reflected the traffic lanes above. Bustling with life and the chaos that civilization brought to any place. But now most of them stood in ruins, some of the walls no taller than her own diminutive height. All lost to war and the months that had stretched into years, the conflict never ceasing.

Nikki glanced at Kretch, wondering if his mind was wandering the same trails as her own. But the man's head was ducked low against the breeze that fluttered through the bones of the city, throwing ash and snow in their faces and hiding his expression from her. Nikki turned away, losing herself to her thoughts once more as the team slogged through the ruins of the city. So much had changed in the years since it had all gone so terribly wrong. There was little left that even resembled what they had been fighting for, the things they told themselves they were defending.

A few minutes passed before she pulled her rifle to her shoulder, setting her feet and using the scope to peer through the snow to be certain the path ahead was clear, an action made swift by habit and lacking the sharpness of conscious thought. It was one Nikki had performed countless times before, to the point even the smallest change would have triggered a warning in her mind. That was what they trained for. Constant alertness, so that the slightest change would be noticed.

Convinced nothing had altered, Nikki lowered the rifle back to her side, moving to catch up with her team even as she looked about the abandoned city. Rumor held that the southern sectors of the city still had some civilians, and that even further south whole cities still stood, being bombed by the rebels with the death toll rising every day. The pockets of fighters in cities like these were all that was keeping the places that still had life safe, forcing the enemy to divert forces that would otherwise be focused on taking those places that still stood as a beacon of hope.

Viper was convinced as to the truthfulness of the reports, but the idea of entire cities still standing rang false to Nikki. Perhaps it was simply pessimism speaking, but she'd never been able to banish the thought that they were on their own here. Alone with the ghosts born of an endless war and the toll such a thing took on the living.

Not for the first time, Nikki's mind took the inevitable turn to wonder what they were fighting to preserve anymore. The world they'd known was gone, washed away in blood and ash and leaving just the ghosts of memory. There were no people to protect, no ideals to defend. Just a freezing ball of ice where two sides continued to slaughter one another on principle.

And yet Nikki stayed. Not out of loyalty to an ideal or the speeches that occasionally made their way to the team's ears via the broadcasts Kretch occasionally managed to catch. Those things had long since died within her, fading to nothing more than a memory, the reason she had once fought smothered by the years of walking around a city with no life. No hope.  
No, she stayed because of a different kind of loyalty, the loyalty to a man who had pulled her out of the worst situation Nikki had ever found herself in, even to this day. Shriek had saved her life, and for that Nikki followed him. Not some General giving commands, or a government promising a return to the days of old. To her, those things were beyond any reach. She doubted she'd be around long enough to live out the year. Snipers were valuable, and because of that they were the first targets taken down by the enemy. She'd been lucky so far, but only a fool trusted their luck to hold. No, it was not the the future she was fighting for. It was the past.

The team passed an alleyway, broken down and burnt out by the fires that had raged in this sector long ago. No one else stopped, unphased by the charred walls that looked like so many others. And yet Nikki's steps slowed until she had come to a halt, eyes scanning the alley that could be any other. And yet it wasn't. It was almost as if her thoughts had summoned it, led the team here, to the doorstep where her life had changed.

She remembered it vividly, the images still haunting her sleep on the worst nights. She remembered the sound of footsteps in the alley, the drunken shouts that had followed her mad dash through the streets. She could still feel the blows that rained down when she couldn't run any longer, the feel of metal striking her cheekbone as she clawed and fought and tried so hard to _survive_. She didn't want to die here, didn't want to meet her end in a stinking alley for the entertainment of a drunken mob. She had been screaming, kicking and clawing and biting and trying so hard to break free. Nikki could still hear the distinct _snick_ of the vibroblade as it was activated, humming in her ears as she struggled. She still bore the scars on her left arm where she had twisted away in desperation, protecting her throat but earning a white-hot line of pain across the limb. She could still feel the cold wet of the tears that had streaked her face, chilled by the icy wind as she sobbed, struggling to break free even though there was nowhere left to run.

And then blasterfire had shattered the moment into a thousand pieces.

* * *

Kretch pushed his way through the rubble and the snow, stopping to look around as the rest of the team pulled ahead. He glanced back, a frown creasing his features when he noticed Scorpion standing still, silhouetted against the grungy gray of the snow and ash that coated the ground.

Kretch glanced around, uncertain if she had spotted something ahead. But she stood with rifle lowered, the butt plate tucked low beneath her shoulder in a relaxed position that spoke nothing of danger. Kretch glanced around again to be certain. Realization dawned as he took in the shapes of the buildings around them. Or, rather, what their shape had been before a bomb had levelled most of this street. He'd known this city like the back of his hand, before. It was little wonder he could still recognise it now.

Kretch trudged back towards Scorpion quietly, pulling to a stop next to her. She continued to stare blankly at the alleyway where it had all started for her, a memory Kretch knew still haunted her. He'd been with Shriek that day, recruited only a few months before from a similar situation. Except he'd been facing two ex-soldiers over a ration bar he'd been stupid enough to steal from them. It was a situation of his own making, while hers was anything but. She had been facing a mob for no other reason than she was alone, she was scared, and they wanted blood.

He knew she still had nightmares from the event, though she never spoke of them. But he'd heard her when the rest of the team was asleep, murmuring in her sleep and jerking awake shortly after. Kretch never spoke of it, well aware that it was a memory she wanted to leave behind her. And for good reason. If he and Shriek hadn't arrived when they did…

"Nikki," he spoke her name softly, carefully. This wasn't the time for codenames, no matter how long they'd worn them.

She didn't turn and Kretch reached out, covering her gloved hand with his own on the stock of her rifle. Her gaze moved to him slowly, unsurprised by his proximity. She had heard him coming, then. The fact didn't surprise him. She'd proven time and again that she paid more attention to details that anyone else on the team.

Her breathing was uneven, ragged as she fought to keep control. How she was managing it so well, Kretch couldn't say. He wouldn't have been able to tell anything was amiss but for his proximity to her, meaning the rest of the team was utterly unaware. Likely just how she wanted it.

Nikki stared at him in silence for a minute and Kretch held her gaze calmly, allowing her to take her time. The team wouldn't notice either of their absence for a few minutes, and Kretch would afford her what time he could to wrestle with her ghosts. He just wasn't going to let her wrestle with them alone.

Finally Nikki swallowed hard, offering a sharp nod that Kretch returned. He waited a moment longer, receiving a shaking smile for his trouble.

"Thanks," Nikki said finally.

"No problem," Kretch replied seriously. He fished around in his pockets before pulling out a small, wrapped package and offering it to her. "Cookie?"

Nikki laughed, surprise coloring her voice, the sound worth the sacrifice of one of Kretch's treats. She accepted the sweet from his hand, jerking her chin towards the squad.

"You should catch up before Shriek notices," she advised. Kretch just grinned in reply, adjusting his rifle over his shoulder as he turned away.

"Kretch?"

He turned back, eyebrow raised in question.

"Thank you," Nikki said and Kretch just smiled.

"Next time you find a cookie stash, save me two. Interest, you know," he said with a wink, earning a laugh, though it was quieter this time. He didn't wait for a reply, trudging back through the snow to catch up with the rest of the team. When he glanced back, Nikki was moving again, her chin tucked to her chest to avoid the worst of what the wind threw at her.

* * *

The whole ship shook with turbulence, to such a degree that Ari wondered how in _haran_ they were supposed to slip in unnoticed. She could have sworn that the rebels would have been able to hear the shuttle coming from ten miles out, so noisy did it seem. But the flight had been silent so far, punctuated only by direct comm contact.

She hadn't heard word from Drey since he and his massive black hound had clambered aboard a second shuttle, the mutt as happy as ever to follow her master straight into danger. If Ari didn't know better, she might have believed the dog had as much of a reckless streak as the man she followed so loyally. Maybe she did, who knew?

Ari adjusted her grip on the overhead railing, gloves stretching with the motion. Nerves played havoc with her stomach, sending her insides fluttering despite the experience of countless missions such as this. It never got easier, never got any less nerve wracking to go toe-to-toe with what very well could be her last moments. But it never got any less exhilarating, either. This was what she lived for. When your life was on the line everything mattered. Every breath, every moment, every decision you made. She was throwing her lot in with the pilot, trusting the man to keep her and the rest of those on board safe long enough to reach the ground. Drey had accused her of being an adrenaline junkie more than once. She'd never argued, instead pointing out he was no different. They were Mandalorian. It simply wasn't in their blood to live quiet lives.

Chaos broke loose without warning, shattering the night as alarms began to blare throughout the shuttle. A moment later the ship jerked violently to the side, yanking Ari free from the support beam she'd been holding onto and throwing her to the ground. She shouted in surprise but the sound was drowned out as yet another impact struck and an explosion ripped through the center of the ship, leaving a gaping hole in the side that belched smoke and flame.

Ari's shoulder slammed into the wall as she fought to regain her feet, her breath loud in the inside of her helmet. Not good. This was definitely not good.

Alarms blared throughout the ship, accompanied by the shouts from its occupants as the shuttle began to spiral, control lost. Ari managed to regain her feet, grabbing onto one of the still-intact support beams as the craft swung wildly, fighting to maintain altitude long enough for the pilot to find a crash site of his choosing. Provided the pilot was still alive, but since the ship was bucking wildly against the controls, Ari had to assume he was.

She felt it the moment the pilot allowed the ship its desire, the nose dipping down. Ari breathed a request under her breath, knuckles tightening as she braced for the impact.

The ship slammed into the ground, skidding against debris and taking out what few structures still stood in its path. Ari was slammed into the wall, sharp pain slicing through her back and causing darkness to swim at the corners of her vision. She could barely see through the smoke that blanketed the interior of the ship, couldn't even begin to comprehend the shouts and the alarms that were flashing on her helmet's HUD. She reached one hand down before holding her gloved hand up, the faint glow from her HUD illuminating the bright blood that coated her fingers.

" _Osik_ ," Ari breathed, looking down and letting a hiss of air escape between her teeth as she took in the damage. A jagged piece of metal, no doubt ripped from the interior of the ship, had punctured her flight suit, slipping between gaps in her armor. The shattered piece of metal jutted out from just beneath her ribs, shining red in the light of the still-burning fires. "Not a good day. Not a good day at all."

She forced herself to her feet, stumbling with the effort and ignoring the waves of pain that assaulted her. She had to get off the ship. Staying meant dying, especially with all the fires cropping up around the crashed shuttle. It was a death trap, one stray spark and the whole shabla thing would go up, taking whoever was unlucky enough to still be inside with it.

She stumbled forward, one hand grasping for purchase on the twisted interior of the craft, fighting to keep her balance. Blood slicked her flight suit already, and she was grateful for the adrenaline pumping through her system, blocking the pain that would no doubt set in soon. She had to move before then. Get clear and get this karking piece of metal out of her so she could repair what she could. Preferably _before_ she passed out and bled to death. Time was against her, and she couldn't afford a misstep. She found herself scrambling over twisted bodies, those who hadn't survived the crash tossed like rag dolls about the interior of the ruined ship. Twice she stopped and pried the ID tags loose from a set of armor, cursing herself a fool all the while, but knowing what it would mean to the families. She didn't have time to grab a piece of armor, though the lack of it caused a pain in her chest as sharply as the metal in her side.

* * *

The interior of the shuttle was dark but for the faint blue lights that ran along the floor, offering only the slightest bit of illumination. Ka'ra sat patiently at Drey's side, seemingly unperturbed by the low-flying craft or the turbulence that occasionally rocked the ship. This was not her first stealth landing, and was far from the harshest.

Drey glanced down at the dog, letting out a huff of laughter as she looked up at him, black tongue lolling and tail thumping happily against the shuttle floor. The dog was possibly the most even-tempered creature Drey had ever met, sentient or otherwise. She'd taken no issue with the other soldiers on board the shuttle, paying them no mind in the slightest. Drey had seen more than one of the men relax, ever so slightly, at the dog's presence. She was good for more than just Drey on these missions.

But he knew from experience that such a mindset could change in a heartbeat. If she sensed a threat, she would go from calm to protective without hesitation. Ka'ra was nothing if not loyal, and Drey had seen that loyalty come to fruit on more than one occasion. He owed the dog his life a dozen times over. Hence why she tagged along on every job now.

"Silly mutt. Don't you know we're on a suicide run?" Drey muttered, scratching her ears gently. Ka'ra's tail simply wagged harder and Drey smiled. "Yeah, we never were the smart ones, were we?"

Others around him shifted restlessly by Drey and Ka'ra paid them no mind. Drey was instead utterly still but for the hand that stroked Ka'ra black head, helmet pointed straight ahead. He felt the tension coiling in his shoulders, settling into the pit of his stomach. But he'd been taught well, raised to dangerous situations long before he'd taken on the title of Mandalorian or the heritage his _buir_ had offered. He was his _buir's_ son, yes. But he was more than that as well.

He felt the turbulence under his feet moments before the rest of the ship was rocked by it, causing Ka'ra to shift her weight slightly to avoid being thrown off-balance. Drey tensed further, fingers itching to draw his pistol. It was no simple thing, handing his fate over to a pilot he didn't know. He'd much rather be at the helm himself, but that wasn't possible for now. So he would have to wait and hope the pilot was as good as they'd been told.

The relative quiet didn't last long. Moments later the sky lit up with blaster fire aimed at the shuttle, earning a vicious curse from Drey. He had hoped to get further before being noticed. Now the pilots would have to rely on instinct, separating to make themselves more difficult to be hit as a group.

Drey saw the shuttle go down. Flames belched from the belly of the ship and his fist tightened around the support beam he clung to as the night suddenly erupted with light. Turrets tracked each shuttle, spitting fire at both as the pilots struggled to evade in such close quarters. Ari's shuttle took a series of shots, spiralling out of control and plummeting to the ground below.

He jerked as if somehow he could reach the ship and his friend, even knowing there was nothing he could do. Each shuttle was left to its own devices and the skills of her pilot, the lives of the soldiers within held in a delicate balance. He could only wait, and hope, and pray to _te manda_ that Ari's pilot was a _shabla_ skilled one.

Drye let out a string of curses as the shuttle disappeared from sight, his gaze snapping up to the monitor in his HUD. Ari's lifesigns had become erratic, but were still present even as fire and smoke bellowed into the sky from the downed shuttle.

"C'mon, Ari, c'mon," Drey muttered, utterly ignoring the shots that streaked towards his own shuttle, trusting the pilot to do his job and keep them aloft. Nothing he could do now to change anything.

"Get us to that crash site!" he shouted, earning a confirmation from the pilot as the ship sipped, turning towards its fallen sister.

Her tracker started moving, slowly, but still movement as she no doubt stumbled out of the wreckage. Three other friendly markers were nearby, each making their way slowly out of the crash zone. Drey sent a series of commands to his HUD, linking it with the woman's as his ship veered wildly. There was no sense maintaining the silenced connection now that both teams had been spotted.

Her view came up in his HUD, the movements shaky and jarring as the woman stumbled her way across debris, skirting fires that blazed in different sections of what had once been the ship. He saw her stop, hauling someone out of the rubble, gripping their forearm as the armored man hauled himself to his feet. Drey didn't recognize him, but Ari seemed to.

"Atta girl, c'mon- _No_!" Drey's words turned to a shout as he jerked forward, rage and disbelief striking him like a blow as the armored figure Ari had just pulled out of the rubble stumbled back a step before his neck snapped to the side, a bright flash of light accompanying the shot. Another flash of light and Ari's tracker went dead, her lifescans flattening to nothing in an instant.

Five seconds later every one of the remaining Mandos' lifesigns went dead, fizzling to nothing in Drey's HUD as snipers finished off the rest of the survivors.

His own shuttle veered violently to the side, the piloting shouting something Drey didn't hear as the craft lifted away, the scene too hot to try to reach the other craft site. Shock was roiling through Drey's system at the death of his friend, Ka'ra's uncharacteristic barking and growls a sign she knew something was amiss.

Drey dropped to one knee, taking the dog's face in his hands as she whined. Drey never knew how much the creature understood, but here and now he could believe that the animal knew Ari was gone. The dog pressed her head to Drey's chest, whining even as he tried to soothe her, tried to make sense of what had just happened as helplessness coursed through him.

He felt a stillness settle in his chest as Drey looked out the shuttle window, a pinprick of light the only sign of the still-burning craft where his friend had died.

There was no panic, only a slow burning rage tempered by a deadly calm, a trait learned from his buir and honed to perfection. Blind emotion was useless and would only get him killed. It didn't lessen the grief that sliced through his chest like a beskad, or the fury that roared through his veins at the thought of whoever had taken out the survivors so ruthlessly. But it gave him focus, and a plan.

Shuttles weren't going to be slipping past the defenses below. He had miscalculated, thinking he could slip a whole series of shuttles past the web of the spiders below.

Ka'ra pressed against his side, sensing her master's emotions, unfooled by the calm that had taken control of him. She knew him well enough to know it was not an indication of peace, but rather a much deadlier storm.

Drey's helmeted head came to rest against Ka'ra's, the motion jerky with grief.

"We'll make them pay. Just us, _ad'ika_ ," he said finally, his voice low and quiet but holding a fierce promise. "The _chakaare_ will never see us coming."

* * *

The trail of smoke gave it away, streaks of light flashing past the falling shuttle even as Nikki pivoted to look. Even from this distance, the craft belched smoke and flame, teetering wildly as incoming fire strafed the already doomed ship. Nikki swung her rifle up to nestle in her shoulder as she set her cheek against the stock, tracking the shuttle in her scope.

The rest of the team craned their necks up at the shuttle, waiting for her analysis but not taking their eyes from the doomed craft.

"No markings," Nikki called, scanning the burning craft with her scope. It left a scar of dark smoke in the sky, a testament to the failed craft's path. Her stomach tightened as she took in the damage, aware of the lives on board the small craft. Who knew how many were still breathing after the damage the ship had taken.

The pilot, at least, was still alive judging by the way the ship flew. Not in control by a long shot, but also not unmanned. Whoever was piloting the ship was fighting to maintain what little control the dying ship could give, favoring one side as they lined up for the inevitable craft.

Likely still survivors on board, then, Nikki mused even as she called out each observation. If not, the pilot would have been protecting the cockpit rather than the rest of the craft.

"They'll land not far from here," Nikki predicted, eyeballing the craft's trajectory and guessing where the pilot might try to crash the ship. "It'll be a trek, but they're likely to go down near the square. We'll get there after we land, but we can shave some time off by going through the-"

"Pack it up and keep moving," Shriek;s command interrupted and the rifle slipped from Nikki's shoulder, shock registering on her features.

"There's _survivors_ by the way the pilot is flying," she repeated. "If they get it on the ground, we could help pull people out, get them to safety before the whole ship-"

"Fall in line!" Shriek turned on her and Nikki took a step back reflexively at the expression on his face. She stiffened her spine, not daring to glance at the others. They were ominously silent, meaning Nikki would get no support from there.

"Sir, we can help," she said slowly, her words formal, carefully chosen. "We can get through the city faster than the other squads. If they're not ours, we can get intel. Dead bodies aren't going to tell us anything."

She knew she was dangerously close to crossing a line. The rest of the squad knew it too, and none of them were about to align themselves with her. Even Kretch shifted uncomfortably in the corner of her vision, the peacemaker of the group not daring to interfere in a direct confrontation between Shriek and one of the squad members. He'd never had to before.

But this was different. This wasn't just any order, this was _wrong_. It made no sense to abandon a downed shuttle that very well could have allies on board. If they were allies, they would need aid. If they were enemies, then they might provide intel that was sorely needed. The only option that made no sense was the one to simply walk away.

The ship disappeared out of their view, too low to see as it continued its downward path. Shriek tilted his head and for a moment Nikki thought the expression was for her. But then he tapped his ear, clicking his comm in acknowledgement of whatever had been said. Command, then. This order was coming from even higher than Shriek. Nikki felt a weight settle into her middle, a mixture of dread and foreboding she couldn't explain.

"It's been confirmed. No survivors, not worth the look," Shriek's voice was softer now, consolatory, as if the news would set her at ease.

"How could it have been confirmed?" Nikki asked, her voice brittle and sharp. Something was wrong here, and the flash of warning in Shriek's eyes only served to confirm the feeling. "The bloody thing only just crashed!"

"This is not our problem, Scorpion," Shriek said, taking a step closer, his voice holding a dangerous edge.

"They could be ours!" Nikki argued, for once emotion overruling logic as she went toe-to-toe with Shriek. "That missile-"

"Follow your orders, Scorpion!" the words were snarled as Shriek took a step closer, coming within inches of her face, using his greater height to his advantage as he towered over her.

Nikki swallowed hard, fighting to hold her ground, refusing to be the one to step down. She saw anger flash in her CO's eyes, a realisation as Nikki's stubborn side kicked in full force. But still she remained where she was. The words stuck in her throat, her continued protests requiring just an ounce more courage than she currently possessed.

The rest of the squad was silent, looking on in uncomfortable silence. Nikki could see Shadow shift, moving out of her sightline and she stiffened. She knew exactly what the newest recruit was doing. She'd watched him set himself in a position to ambush an enemy a thousand times through the scope of her rifle as she covered the rest of the team. But she'd never dreamed she might be the target. Viper apparently realised at the same time, and Nikki watched as the other woman casually mirrored the movements of the newest recruit, her steps fluid and calm, but deadly. Setting herself as a counter to Shadow.

Nikki's breath caught in her throat as the team began to pick sides. This was not what she wanted. A bloodbath within her own team, and for what?

"There could be survivors," Nikki tried one last time, her voice pitched soft and carefully controlled to show no emotion except concern. She didn't want to spark an already volatile situation. "There's so few of us. A few more-"

"Not. Our. Problem," Shriek enunciated each word clearly, as if he were talking to a small child. "Fall in line, Scorpion."

The threat in his voice was clear and Nikki swallowed hard once more before offering a sharp nod and stepping back, dropping her gaze. Ceding the fight.

Shriek nodded and spun on his heel, not looking back to see if the squad followed. His point had been made.

Viper cast a look in Nikki's direction but didn't fall back into line until Shadow took his place back at Shriek's shoulder. Then the woman inclined her head at Nikki, the look questioning. Nikki simply nodded once, the motion jerky, but still filled with thanks. The other woman offered the ghost of a smile before falling back into line. Something had shifted within the team. Something Nikki wasn't sure she wanted to name.

Nikki looked down at her hands, finally noting how violently she was shaking.

* * *

 _A/N: First and foremost, I want to apologize for the incredibly long, ridiculous wait for this xD I am trying to get back on track with these stories, and have not abandoned them, but life has changed drastically for me in the past few years. Thank you to those who have/are sticking around for these. I hope not to disappoint!_


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